c. 2024 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(7-24)
Saturday morning arrived with a forecast for temperatures in the 80’s. I had passed out while watching a presidential interview on ABC in primetime, an event that was underwhelming and quite frankly, desperate. As the amount of Yuengling lager in my system reached a critical point, I simply went to sleep. Then, about three o’clock in the morning, I had to relieve myself.
This early exit from the weekend night meant that I awakened again, just after sunrise. Arthritic aches and restlessness had taken hold. So, I gave up on trying to sleep in, with a temptation of fresh-brewed coffee lingering in my head. I didn’t really want to be conscious, but my inner clock had already sounded its cuckoo alarm.
Thus, my daily routine commenced off-schedule, with everything happening early. Java in my cup, toast with peanut butter, and a quick round of e-mail messages at the computer. A neighbor reached out over the Facebook Messenger app, to ask about purchasing copies of newer titles in my library. I pondered a list of grocery items that were needed, something I had been assembling throughout the week. I changed into clean clothes, and checked my refrigerator and cupboards to be certain of what I would need to survive the days ahead. Then, feeling wobbly but determined to be motivated, I headed toward my SUV in the gravel driveway, out front.
I had planned to visit Rock Creek, a tiny community in Ashtabula County. The sort of place one might expect to find in rural Pennsylvania, or West Virginia. There, I knew that two friendly stores were located opposite of each other. A Dollar General on one side of Route 45, and Cantini’s Village Market, on the other.
My list spelled out what I wanted to buy at both of these businesses. Despite the summer temperatures, I figured that with a bit of effort, I could get through each commercial establishment without succumbing to the heat. The first visit went quickly enough, as I was cheerfully greeted by employees, and even assisted by a sympathetic patron afterward, who took my empty buggy back to the lobby with her own. Yet at the second spot, I ran into an unexpected drag on my pace.
Janis, my friend who had been in a nursing home for most of the year, called as I was searching for Tina’s Burritos in the frozen foods case.
I debated whether or not to answer, but because she had temporarily been shuttled to the Cleveland Clinic for a brief medical procedure, I concluded that it was better not to delay our communication. Background noise immediately assaulted my ear. But after a moment, I heard her voice through the din. She sounded fatigued, yet cheerful.
“They want to do some kind of assessment tomorrow, before I get cleared to leave. Maybe on Monday, I can go back to Carington Park. These doctors always have to poke me and take X-rays and MRIs and Cat Scans and whatever the eff! It’s like being a gawdamm model, they keep taking pictures, all day!”
I laughed out loud, which attracted attention from customers who shared the aisle.
“A model? That’s a hoot, honey! I’ve never thought of you in such a context. But I get it, you must be tired of being tested and analyzed...”
She snorted and swore at my comment about her lacking photogenic qualities.
“BITE ME, RODBERT!”
I had to load the frozen snacks into my cart with one hand, while holding the cell phone. This left my cane hanging from the cart handle.
“Sorry, I just thought it was a funny analogy...”
Janis wheezed and blew her nose.
“Anyway, I didn’t bring my phone or anything, because they said the IVC filter would get yanked out, and I’d be right back to Ashtabula. Geez, what a mess! Now they are all worried about this and that, it’s worse than living with my granny!”
I nodded and scratched my gray beard.
“Right, but you ought to be glad they are paying attention. There’s no need to be in a rush, let them do their work. They shouldn’t take any shortcuts, you know...”
Her impatience was obvious.
“SURE, YOU CAN COP THAT ATTITUDE BECAUSE YOU GET TO SIT IN YOUR TRAILER AND DRINK BEER! I WANT TO SEE THE GOLDEN GIRLS TOMORROW! AND SNEAK CANDY BARS AND CHIPS FROM OUR VENDING MACHINES! AND HAVE A SMOKE ON THE PATIO!”
She had vomited more than once from eating unapproved foods. And cigarettes had contributed to her maladies. But her rowdy spirit remained undeterred. I knew that anything short of dying in her bed would not change that reality.
“You know, it’s a blessing from God that you’re even alive. A heart attack and three strokes would have killed many people. You’re still here though, still ornery, still a scoundrel...”
She hissed and cackled as I bowed my head.
“WHAT DID I SAY BEFORE? BITE... ME!!”
One of the staff nurses interrupted our conversation. She had a round of meds and some instructions to prepare for the exam scheduled early tomorrow morning.
“Listen carefully, Miss Mays. A doctor will call on you as the new day begins. We need to have breakfast out of the way, and also get you showered and ready...”
Janis was more diplomatic with the professional caregiver.
“Okay, okay, I won’t argue. Whatever gets me out of here is a good thing!”
I had already loaded two cases of beer into my half-sized shopping cart, the burritos, a package of ground beef, a jar of Claussen pickles, and jugs of spring water. I needed a loaf of Schwebels bread to complete my supermarket sweep. But sweat had begun to drip from my face and nose. My t-shirt was soaked. I felt dizzy and sore.
“Look, I’ve got to get up to the front registers. Maybe you can call again later? I’m feeling woozy. Once I am home, it’ll be time for some coolant courtesy of Pottsville, Pennsylvania...”
She did not get my geographical reference.
“Pottsville? Where the hell is that, Rodbert?”
I chuckled to myself and patted one of the cases of Yuengling in my buggy.
“YING, DAMMIT! YOU KNOW, YING-LING! UNADULTERATED, HONEST-TO-GOD, ALL-AMERICAN AMBER LAGER!”
My hospitalized cohort made noises like someone passing wind.
“You’re a butthead! I like you anyway though. Yeah, I will call you again later. The nurses are bothering me anyway. Take it easy, old man! Don’t get too drunk!”
A cashier was on duty that I hadn’t seen up close in weeks. She had been working in the butcher shop, at the rear of their tiny store. I liked the sweet sound of her young voice, and her candid responses to being teased. She was able to engage in a lively give and take, without being offended. A single mother working to support herself, tall and pretty without makeup or any artificial enhancements.
“You’re a good talker! I like someone who can sling the bullshit!”
No comments:
Post a Comment